In Another Life
by TheDiamondTyrant
Summary: A look into moments of one life Ned Stark deserved.


**In Another Life**

 **AN:** Well, here's my first one shot and first GoT/ASOIF story. I read a story on here some months back, including this pairing and I liked it. So, after a while I decided to try my hand at it.

If you follow me anywhere online you will know I despise this series because I'm a firm believer and staunch defender of "Happy Endings", what can I say? I'm a romantic. Yet I find myself liking fanfiction of this series.

The main point is Ned Stark deserved better and we all fucking know it. So here is my first (but hopefully not last) try at giving him his due.

This was originally posted on A03, under the same name, and is part of my Ned Stark Deserved better Series. NSDB for Life!

Let's see how it goes.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own GoT/ASOIF (Game of Thrones/A Song Of Ice and Fire) or any of its characters, I'm just writing my story in their world.

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Whispered rumors raced across Westeros, a Mad King they spoke of quietly. A Mad King indeed. The abduction of Lyanna sent Rickard Stark to King's Landing, as Brandon did his duty and married Catelyn Tully. The death of Rickard Stark in his Trial by Combat against Wildfire, along with the executions of his Honor Guard, sent the newly crowned Lord of Winterfell North to his waiting brothers and they called his Bannermen for war.

Ned had, on his brother's orders, gathered as many loyal men as he could before Brandon arrived. A force 10 thousand strong, half of the men who had been able to answer the call to arms.

Ned met Brandon with a fierce hug. His older brother returned the hug quickly before pulling away, both men carrying a solemn face.

"We are 10 thousand men strong, Bran." Ned began quietly as they walked briskly through the courtyard of Winterfell. "With another 10 thousand here within a week."

"20 thousand men to fight The Iron Throne, damn this winter." a bitter laugh escaped his brother, Ned decided it didn't suit The Wild Wolf of Winterfell.

"Robert and Jon Arryn have raised their flags in rebellion as well brother."

They stopped on the far side of the court yard, turning to survey the men that had shown tense. Ned's eyes scanned the force inside the courtyard, his eyes falling on the Warrior Women of Bear Island, always having been a point of interest to the young man. They were practicing with other men and seemed to be prevailing in the spar.

Lady Maege Mormont had introduced Dacey, the heir to Bear Island, and she caught his eye as her tall lanky frame worked with a mace and shield in her hands.

"This False Spring was harsh on all of Westeros, and for every man The North can't muster these Southern Lords have 10 they can't." A voice boomed from behind them.

Turning quickly Ned saw Greatjon Umber Lord of Last Hearth, quickly approaching them with his long gait. The man was a giant, standing closer to seven feet tall than six, with the strength to match.

The man's voice carried across the yard, and a cheer arose quickly and some of the tense air left the gathered men. Greatjon clapped both Brandon and Ned hard on their shoulders.

"Your marriage to Lady Catelyn will bring the Riverlands to our side as well, brother." Ned reminded Brandon.

His brother nodded, still quiet, his eyes darting to Lord Umber.

Greatjon lumbered off to join the sparring and once again the brothers were left alone once more.

"You'll have much to do when I leave for this war, Ned." His brother told him quietly.

"No, I'll be going with you, Brandon you cannot march alone," Ned argued. "Our Father went alone and look what happened."

It was a low blow and they both knew it, yet it was also the truth.

"When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives." Ned continued "Benjen can be the Stark in Winterfell, he's old enough for that, but he's too young to fight. I can't let you ride South alone brother. I won't lose anyone else"

Brandon stared at him, eyes hard, looking every bit the Wild Wolf, before he sighed looking away a small smile on his face.

"Fine."

A single word and two brothers would march off to war.

Ned learned one thing very quickly. His father was right. There was no honor in war. Plenty of men dying, blood splattering across your blade and body, limbs being served, and the stink of death. Yet no honor.

He charged with men at his back, through the streets of Stoney Sept. Arrows flew from all sides, as he did battle with nameless men with their faces covered by helms. Ned's long sword cut men down swiftly and without fanfare, much like Winter kills those unlucky enough to be caught in its path unprepared.

He ducked into an alleyway, shouldering an enemy into the ground, where a swift stab of his sword ended his life. Ned gulped down breaths before swiftly moving through the alleyway, loyal men at his back.

The bells tolling throughout the city, pounded into Ned's skull as his men raced through the city, chasing the retreating Loyalists. There was no honor in slaying retreating men, and Robert was still wounded, and so Ned and Brandon helped Robert defeat Jon Connington on the steps of Stoney Sept. They raced through the marketplace with loyal warrior at their backs, along with Brandon's own guards, one of which was Dacey Mormont.

The red headed man and his small band of men fought bravely, and the men died doing the honorable thing, letting their commander flee to fight another day. Though Robert landed a parting blow with his sword.

They had won the battle, yet the war still loomed on.

The marriage of Jon Arryn to Lysa Tully, held in Riverrun, was a short affair, but firmly secured the Riverland's to their cause. Now Ned alongside the rest of the rebels was marching East towards the Loyalists main force, towards the Trident.

Blood flowed in the waters of the Trident as the Targaryen Forces collided into the defensive line of the rebels. Robert lead the charge the horns of his helmet making him an obvious figure on his destrier, his war hammer smashing plate like parchment. Brandon rode behind him a wild smile on his face as his sword swung in arcs.

Ned rallied the defensive line along the banks. Letting the royalists that slipped past Roberts men slam themselves into their defenses, they had the advantage, and Ned wouldn't let it go without a fight. He rode his horse quickly along the lines shouting orders, adding in his own sword as he could.

Men died and even more died by the time Robert and Rhaegar met in the shallows. The two men fought hard as the battle waged around them. Rhaegar seemed unhittable on his mount, deftly dodging the powerful swings of Robert's hammer. Robert on the other hand seemed to be taking wounds deftly placed with precision by the Crown prince.

Both armies stopped fighting and watched the duel that would decide the fate of Westeros.

The tide of the duel seemed to switch when Robert's Warhammer crushed the face of Rhaegar's dustier. The Prince hit the ground hard along with his mount, and Robert a man full of rage dismounted howling with cruel laughter.

No one dared to interrupt, no they watched with bated breath as Westeros future was fought for.

Robert was Fury as he stalked through the shin deep water, his war hammer held dangerously in his hands.

It would be that Fury that changed the course of history.

When Robert swung his hammer in a killing arc Rhaegar rolled away, the three dragons adorning the top of his helmet were smashed as he slipped into Robert's guard, plunging his longsword through his chest with a fear powered thrust.

The rebel's moral was smashed to pieces as Robert Baratheon fell dead and they fled the field in quick order, fighting for every step as the Loyalists hounded their heels.

This war had started as a way for Justice and Survival, and now it was just for the Survival.

The rebels raced North, only slightly ahead of the Loyalists. The Loyalists had pulled back and the rebels took their chance, and now they were only a few hours ride from the place of their final stand, Moat Cailin.

They were 15,000 men strong having lost a few thousand men all through the Rebellion. When the Targaryen banner were seen, their sudden slow pace made sense, a reinforced army marched toward the last stand.

The golden Lions of the Lannister flew behind the three headed dragon, and The North grumbled its protests. The seasons Autumn was colder than most could remember, but it did nothing to stop the arriving army to lay siege the last Northern foothold of the Rebellion.

Months passed and as the winds turned colder, the siege was turning in favor of the Loyalists as the rebel's supplies ran low, and Tywin's gold did not.

Their supplies, including the ones smuggled in from the sea, ran dry. Brandon and Ned along with Brandon's Honor Guard met Rhaegar and his Kingsguard on the field before the Moat.

"Well met," The Prince said, his voice melancholy.

Ned placed his hand on his brother's shoulder as Brandon emitted a growl from his throat, stalling any rash movements.

"Well met, Prince Rhaegar," Brandon ground the words out as if uttering them physically harmed him, and maybe in a way it did.

"Let us the end this foolishness, kneel and your lives and then lives of your men shall be spared." The way the Prince spoke was with an air of finality as if there was no other option than this.

"Just like my fathers and the lives of his men were spared, when we demanded Justice for you taking my sister?" Brandon yelled, The Wild Wolf coming out, teeth bared.

A flash of something passed through Rhaegar's face but it was gone soon enough.

"That was not what happened," the Prince replied his voice even, he motioned with his hand and from the Wheelhouse stepped Lyanna Stark, dressed in a blue dress, looking regal.

Brandon would have surged forward, his sword drawn had Ned not stepped in front of him, facing his brother. The Honor Guard closed in quickly, hands on their weapons, and the Kingsguard tensed.

"Brothers, please. All of this is a misunderstanding. I went with Rhaegar willingly." Lyanna begged her voice sounding older, but it was no doubt their baby sister.

Brandon released the grip on his weapon, and shrugged Ned's hands off, and Ned turned his somber gaze toward his sister.

"All of this bloodshed, and you come, now after all this death, and tell us you went willingly?" Brandon's voice was steel, and his eyes hard.

The Prince and their sister nodded.

"All of this bloodshed, every single drop is on your hands, my liege," and The North knelt once again to the Dragons.

Whether Brandon's words were meant for Rhaegar or Lyanna, or maybe both no one knew, but his words were a viper, and everyone present felt their venom.

The North remembers, and no more Northern blood was wasted on a futile war.

The march North after they accepted defeat was somber and silent, the war they fought so hard for fell apart around them with one sentence, but the dead were still dead, and no comforting words could change that.

The two brothers dealt with bitter words hurled their way from grieving families and they remained somber faced through it all.

The Wild Wolf and the Quiet Wolf marched home, and only within the walls of Winterfell with their little brother in their arms did they finally grieve.

Yet the world would keep turning and grief would not stop it, no matter how much they wished for it to.

Brandon took to reigning Winterfell with grace Ned would never had thought his Wild brother possessed.

Prince Rhaegar had returned home the War Hero, and somehow took control of The Iron Throne from his Mad father. Yet it was too little to late, the dead wouldn't be coming back.

Benjen was sent South, to King's Landing as a ward, or rather a hostage to keep the North docile. Benjen had accepted the news better than Brandon, who raged while drunk about starting another war and fighting till their last. That talk had not left the room it was spoken in, and that was for the best.

Ned was consulted before the decision, but he agreed to his marriage to a women five years his junior, Dacey Mormont for House Mormont's distinguish during the rebellion. Dacey was chosen as reward for saving the life of Brandon during the Battle of The Trident.

When Ned arrived on Bear Island and saw the statue of a woman cloaked in a bear skin with a babe nursing at her breast in one hand and a battle axe in the other, he knew that Bear Island was unlike any place he had been to before.

His wife to be was an attractive woman. With dark hair framing an angular face, and a tall lanky body that, as he soon would find out, moved just as well in dresses as it did in armor on a battlefield.

Though Ned hadn't tested his theory out for himself, he was fairly certain his betrothed was a touch taller than he was, something Brandon teased him for mercilessly in the days before the wedding.

The wedding itself was a short Northern affair. The Northern night was cold as Dacey Mormont was led to the Heart Tree and was giving to Ned by her mother Maege. Ned's breath caught in his throat as he noticed the beauty of his soon to be wife. She wore dresses as well as she did. They spoke quiet vows, and Ned draped his heavy cloak over Dacey. They both kneeled in front of the Heart Tree, where silent prayers were uttered. They walked out of the Godswood arm in arm into the Main Hall where their wedding feast would commence.

A couple hours into the feast, Brandon yelled out for the bedding, and before he could stop it, Ned and Dacey were taken from their seats and ushered through separate doors with Bed Them being chanted.

Ned would never admit to blushing like the virgin he was when his wife was brought into the bedding room in nothing but her small clothes, and his new wife swore to keep his secret safe, though she had laughed quietly with him.

Ned and Dacey Stark were given Moat Cailin by Brandon as a wedding gift, and as a Duty to the North. It was historically the first line of defense from Southern invaders, having held off the Andals. It was an honorable task, and a more than worthy gift for a second son. Yet Ned couldn't help but think Brandon just couldn't bear to think of it, the place where he lost his sister for a second time.

It was nine months after their wedding that Ned and Dacey welcomed their first-born daughter into the word, she had Dacey's dark hair and Ned's gray eyes and the pale skin of the North. The blood of the First Men ran strong in her.

The smile Dacey gave Ned when he named their daughter melted some of the ice around his heart, and he felt something for his wife in a way he hadn't before that moment.

Dacey worked beside Ned as their men worked on rebuilding Moat Cailin to its former glory.

A few months after they started their rebuilding efforts and an old tower was deemed safe once more, the maester confirmed that Dacey was once more with child, and a feast was used to celebrate both events.

It would be that night, while he was drunk from too much wine, that he would crawl into bed with his wife, pulling her to his chest, he thought to himself words of love, truly, for the first time.

A son was born another few months after the feast. They named him Jon after Jon Arryn, and his looks mirrored those of his older sister.

A circle of men and women had formed around them as their steel clanged together. There were cheers and japes as coin changed hands rapidly. Ned couldn't remember working this hard to land a single hit since he and Robert used to spar in The Vale.

He danced backwards, pulling his sword up to bat away his opponents mace as they brought it down in a swift arc. He thrust his sword toward his opponent and they darted out of the way twisting their body sideways and brought their shield and smashed it into his forehead.

He stumbled back falling to the ground, and when he opened his eyes the mace was positioned in front of his eyes, and his opponent asked if he would yield. Ned yielded with a laugh, as his wife took off her helm and helped him to his feet.

She graced him with a full lipped smile and a full belly laugh and Ned's breath caught. He's certain he's never seen a more beautiful women in his life, and he had danced with Ashara Dayne at The Tourney of Harrenhal.

He was not above pulling her to the muddy ground with him though, and soon they were wrestling as cheer returned around them. His Warrior Wife had worked hard besides these men and women and earned their respect and it showed.

Don't let it be said that a Mormont woman didn't give as good as she got, for she smeared mud all of Ned's face during their grapple and the cheers grew louder.

Later that night, with dark eyes meeting dark eyes they collapsed into their shared bed and let the earlier fun from the day carry them throughout their throes of passion well into the night.

When Ned marched toward Kings landing for Benjen's name day, it was with somber face, Dacey would often grip his hand when his jaw would work tight, and his men would turn a blind eye to their displays.

Ned smiled genuinely for the first time in the viper den that was King's Landing when he laid eyes on Benjen for the first time since the end of their rebellion. Benjen had grown into a man and carried himself as one, but still he ran to Ned with the enthusiasm of a child and Ned lifted him in a hug with only a laugh. He had missed his younger brother dearly, and it seemed Benjen had missed him just as much.

When Ned first saw Lyanna alone he almost walked the other direction and in fact he had turned around when she called his name. Her voice was still as sweet as he remembered but there was no doubt she had aged.

When he turned back toward her he kept his face in its normal somber mask, and when his eyes met hers, it almost broke.

Lyanna's eyes were sadder than he ever remembered them being, and that thought broke his heart to pieces.

The wound they had between them slowly started to heal when he wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders, as her tears dampened his tunic.

Dacey would have their third child in Kings Landing, and his looks too mirrored those of his older siblings. They named him Robb after Ned's late friend and though Rhaegar made a face at the name, he blessed the child nonetheless. Though Ned thought it had more to do with Lyanna's nasty look than any well wishes.

They would leave Kings Landing for Moat Cailin as soon as Dacey was well enough for travel.

They would make the tower that was safe, fully usable within another year, and a small feast was thrown, where Dacey dragged Ned out to dance all throughout the feast. Ned was not the best dancer, but he held his own well enough, though his wife, as usual, outshone him in that department.

As the festivities died down, Ned decided to be bold, and pulled Dacey onto the floor for one last song. The musicians gave pity to him and played a quiet somber tune, one perfect for the swaying he could do masterfully.

With sweet words he declared his love for her, his voice soft and hesitant. It would be the first time he said the words he had been thinking since their little wild wolf Arya came into the world. He was afraid of making a fool of himself before her.

When her laughter rang out in the hall, he thought he did, and his eyes found his boots suddenly more interesting. Yet before he could utter a word of apology, she raised his head.

Cupping his face, she leaned down the inch she stood over him and her lips tasted of the honey mead she had consumed this night. The kiss was filled with a passion he had never truly felt from her before.

She whispered words of love back to him, and he smiled so wide his face hurt. He picked her up in a great hug and swung her round.

They declared their love to each other all throughout the night.

When Benjen Stark was found poisoned in the Red Keep, Ned almost rode off beside Brandon who had come to deliver the news. With great sadness he wept in Dacey's arms as grief almost crushed him. On the morrow of the news, Ned Stark was grim faced as he rode South to get the bones of his younger brother, wife beside him every step of the way.

When Ned arrived in Kings Landing it was in disarray as Targaryen forces fought Targaryen rebels.

The Mad King had escaped whatever hole he was in, and he wanted his throne back.

The white cloak and golden hair of young Knight Jaime Lannister was the only friendly face he could make out. Ned and Dacey carved out a path to the young man, the few men they brought watch their flanks.

Jaime Lannister had been, last Ned heard, the Kingsguard assigned to Lyanna, and the two spoke a few times the last time he was in the Red Keep. When the Lannister boy turned and saw a friendly face, he smiled, Ned thought it made him look even younger. Jaime's skill with a blade could not be denied, having been trained by The Sword of The Morning, yet it never hurt to have friends to fight beside.

When they pushed into the Red Keep, they only had a moment to breath before shouts drew the group farther into the keep.

In the throne room was a Rhaegar and Lyanna surrounded by the Kingsguard. Surrounding them were men who were following the orders of Aerys himself.

The three of them melded seamlessly into the fray. Ned and Dacey working in tandem to attack the flank of the Targaryen rebels.

When the rebels were slain. All eyes turned to Aerys, who held a dagger to Dacey's throat. Ned's breath caught in his throat as his hands trembled in anger he hadn't felt since the abduction of his sister and the murder of his father.

Aerys laid out his demands, which were for them all to kneel before their rightful King. All knew acceptance of his demands would mean death. Yet Aerys maid one fatal mistake, he grabbed Dacey thinking her a woman just playing at being a warrior.

When Dacey slammed her steel covered heel into Aerys leather covered foot, he loosened his grip and she spun mace clipping his shoulder, sending him spinning. Aerys, propelled by fear, slammed the dagger home into Dacey stomach.

Jaime Lannister's sword would pierce Aerys gut.

While Ned's body moved quickly and on its own.

He would only truly realize his actions when The Mad Kings head was laying separate from its body.

The room Ned was placed in for house arrest was nicer than his own room in Moat Cailin and he scoffed at that thought. The room was guarded by Jaime Lannister, and the boy was currently sitting across from him, brow furrowed as he examined the board before him. They were playing Cyvasse, and as they were both new to it, they were working seriously to win.

They each had won one round a piece and were quickly coming to the final phases of the tie breaker when a knock rang from the door.

Lyanna entered quickly, and brought news of Dacey, which had Ned Standing quickly, all his focus on his baby sister.

Ned while technically arrested for slaying Aerys Targaryen, the duo were hailed as heroes by the common folk of Kings Landing for permanently ending the threat of Aerys. He was lead, under the dutiful gaze of Jaime, to the maester's quarters where his wife was sleeping on a cot, abdomen covered in thick bandages.

Ned was at her side in an instant, his hands grasping her smaller ones. He felt the callouses from her training and drew strength from her presence.

He knew she would be okay.

Ned and Jaime would strike up a peculiar friendship during his staying as a guest of Rhaegar and Lyanna during Dacey's recovery.

They would oft be found sparring in the training ground of the Red Keep. Jaime was the better swordsmen, yet Ned made him work for his victories if nothing else.

The day Ned gained his first decisive victory in their sparring was the day Ned saw Jaime smile truly for the first time, and it reminded Ned just how young the man standing before him was. Ned decided that day that should Jaime Lannister ever be in trouble, Ned would be there to offer aid.

It is said no truer connection can be formed between men than when their swords are crossed, and that was certainly true for Jaime Lannister and Ned Stark.

Dacey was declared infertile due to the wound Aerys inflicted upon her in his last act of life. Ned could care less, just as long as she was alive and when she tried to apologize he hushed her with hungry lips. He had missed his wife and was going to show her just how much.

Years later as the gray was showing more and more in Ned's beard and Dacey's hair, and yet he still thought her the most beautiful creature in all of Westeros.

He was standing in the courtyard with Dacey watching their children spar with each other. Arya was quick and agile, Jon was patient, and Robb used hi strength. Just as usual it ended with all three chasing each other around the yard, slinging mud or snow at one another.

Ned wrapped his arms around his wife and tilted his head upward to kiss her once before losing himself in her dark eyes. They both turned as a howl of laughter arose from their children, to find Jon and Robb rolling in the mud as Arya laughed on.

His life was fading, and it seemed the saying was true, life did flash before your eyes when you were going to die. Yet as his breaths grew shallower, his spirit felt stronger.

With a bright flash of light Ned saw the women he hadn't seen since her death five years prior. They walked off, hand in hand, together.

He wouldn't have asked for another life.

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 **AN:** Well there it is, hope you enjoyed it! Please review, constructive criticisms are also welcomed as are just general comments. As usual, thank y'all for reading.

I hope my inexperience with this fandom didn't ruin this story for anyone and I really hope y'all will stick around for the next one, whenever it may come.


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